Beautiful Disaster
by DawnOfForelsket
Summary: Mobius. A world where humans and anthrophormorphic animals live in perfect disharmony. The two species despise each other, constantly starting wars and debates. Ever since the peace treaty was signed, they are forced to tolerate eachother. But what happens when G.U.N begins doing expirements on anthro mobians? And what is the 'Mobian Counsel' planing to do with the humans?
1. Le Homme En Noir

**Beautiful Disaster**

By DawnOfForelsket

Chapter One

 _' Le Homme En Noir'_

They were like tall towers while he was the unfinished buliding.

He cowered under their venomous glares, his dual appendages curled around his torso, as if'd it protect him from them. The tallest, who called himself "K.C", (kid crusher), took a step towards him.

"Where's my sugar?" He asked, a crooked, toothy, grin etched on his face. "Speak _now_ , or suffer da conquests."

Despite his shakiness, the kit spoke up, albeit quietly. "I-I think ya m-mean consequences, K.C.."

The metaphorical "tower" froze a second before scoffing. "Whadd'ya know 'bout grammar, Blemish?"

Blemish. You may think that one's harsh, but look through the whole assortment, first: Mistake, Street Scum, Geek Boy, Highway Accident, Squirrel Dung, and others that he didn't exactly understand. What on earth did _failed abortion_ mean?

Anyways, the fox tried his best to think of the nicknames as harmless friend titles. Something you'd call your best buddy. But after reading the dictionary, it became difficult to think that way.

He was thrown into the present when something lifted him from the floor; and from his tails, nevertheless. He mewled feebly, trying to twist out his captor's grasp. "Now, you stupid piece of trash, where did ya put my cash?!" Before the cub could respond, he was slapped across his face and thrown on the rough, cold, cement. He whimpered, rubbing his cheek.

"I didn't tuh-take your m-money, K.C, I p-promise.." He saw his attacker's comrades snicker, then one of them commented:

"You heard him, K.C, plus, he promises!" Then, the three burst out hideous cackles.

 _Say something, you dolt! Don't let them treat you like this!_

 _Fight them! Show them that your not a wussy!_

 _Stand up for yourself, do something!_

I-I..I-.." He snuffled, blinking back tears.

"Oh, is the poor little garbage bin crying!? Boo-hoo, how sad! Woe is he!" The tower taunted, elicting more laughter from his followers.

The dirtied kit rose unsteadily, stumbling away from his tormentors with teary eyes. He sniffled and whined softly, ' _Pathetic.You do this to yourself.'_

 _Time Skip_

 _He thrashed and yelped as the needle of the syringe was pushed forcefully into his arm. His protests apparently fell on deaf ears, since the process continued._

 _'No! Not again!' His eyelids became heavy, every movement more and more sluggish. Firm restraints were fastened around his wrists, and a sliver blob came into view._

 _Through his blurry vision, he could tell that the item became thin and acute towards the top, and was being held by a gloved hand. It's tip was sharp enough to cut through flesh._

 _Just like a..._

He awoke abruptly, face dripping in sweat, his breathing quick and raspy. He bit his lip looking around himself. No hospital bed, no syringes, no..No scalpel.

He took a small, short breath, shaking his head. "Your okay, Sonic, your okay." He slipped out of his "bed" (a pile of unwashed rags). He yawned, stretching his tired muscles. He went through his dull, uneventful morning schedule. He ate 10 chili-dogs, brushed his teeth, ran a few laps around his house, bathed. Yup, everyday things.

He now strapped on his shoes, adjusting the buckles. "Today will be way past cool. I'm gonna run, nap, explore, run! I might even socially interact with someone! Haha, funny joke, self." He did a few push-ups, sit-ups, speech practices..

He brushed back his quills, a confident smirk plastered on his face. "Alrighty, let's go!" He zoomed out his door, emerald eyes bright in the sunlight. He dashed down the forest pathway, raising to speeds near Mach 1.

He dodged branches and bushes and shrubs and trees, reaching Mach 3 four minutes in. Some hikers and bikers stopped to gawk at him, but he wasn't sure why.

He was going pretty slow, afterall.

The day went past fairly quick, pun entirely intended. He was a blue blur, flashing past the woods at supersonic speeds. Hence, his name: Sonic. He took a break around noon, plopping down by a old oak tree. "Hi, Henry, how are you?"

He imagined "Henry" (the tree) responding with: _"Great! How about you, Sonic?"_ The two continued their conversation until a odd noise sounded from the other side of Henry. "Was that you Henry?"

" _No imbecile, I'm an inanimate tree. There is actually something on the other side of me."_

"Geez, no need for insults, cranky old man." The hedgehog crawled across the lush,green, grass towards the cause. It sounded like slow breathing, and he hesitated before looking to see what had made the noise. He saw a cloaked figure, who had a flat fedora propped lazily on his head.

Sonic froze, eyes wide as he anticipated movement. Nothing. ' _Is he dead?'_ Tentatively, he inched closer. Reaching out a shaky hand, he poked the immobile enigma. Nothing. Sonic sighed. ' _Finding a corpse wasn't on my agenda for today..'_ He was about to retreat back to his home, but was interrupted by a grunting sound. ' _Dead bodies don't make noise, do they?'_ He saw the hand of the figure (which was quite gigantic) twitch, and moments later it's eyes flew open.

Violet, shining, eyes. Luminous was an extreme understatement. He gaped at the sight, before regaining compososure and awkwardly waving his hand. "Uh, hi?" It was more of a question than a greeting.

The cloaked figure jumped, apparently startled. He quickly rose to his feet, and took a step back from Sonic. "I-" He noticed his voiced sounded squeaky, so he tried again in a much deeper tone, "I've got to go.."

The blue möbian just now noticed how short the cloaked person was. He was barely any taller than him. Maybe he was a midget? And what was up with that voice crack earlier? "Wait, don't go!" Sonic had surprised himself by saying it, but continued anyway. "I have a question, i-if that's okay with you?"

The "midget" stiffened. "Uh, sorry kid,but I'm, uh, extremely busy. I've got, uhm, work to tend to! Gotta feed the family, right?!" He than laughed unsurely, taking another step back. "So, uh, see ya!" And he was gone, but not without dropping his fedora.

"Wait, your hat!" But the strange "man" had left. He took up the headwear, eyeing it supciously. He looked in the direction where the figure had left.

He shifted into a running position, eyes narrowed in determination. " 'Project Hat Delivery' is a go!"


	2. Target Practice

**Chapter Two •** Target Practice

He trudged into the abandoned shed, sighing. He flung off his trench coat.

 _' I should be more careful. Next time, it may not be a kid who finds me.'_

He swiped the sweat off his forehead with a grunt. He began to think that running the whole way back was a bad idea.

Cracking his namesakes, Knuckles plopped onto his cheap pull-out chair, releasing another sigh on impact. "At least I got the emerald. Next stop is Mystic Ruins." He stretched, raising to his feet.

He cast a sidewards glance at the bulletin board on the wall beside him.

Various blurry pictures of ancient ruins were showcased in most of them, the others were of diamond-shaped, multi-coloured gems. One polaroid photo consisted of a tall, smiling, echidna posing by a small, also smiling, echidna child.

He stared at it longingly before shaking his head. Get a grip, Knuckles. You have a job to do.He retrieved his shades, his trench coat, and his h-

Wait a minute.."Where the heck is my hat?!"

He hurried around the room, looking underneath chairs and dusty furniture, heart pounding mercilessly.

"Looking for this?"

He turned slowly, eyes meeting with a short hedgehog's fiery emerald. He blinked, recognizing that it was the same kid from earlier. And, he had his hat. The echidna growled inwardly, scrutinizing his visitor under a glare.

"You left it by Henr- I mean, the tree. So, I took it here. "

Knuckles walked over to the intruder and snatched his fedora from his hands. He set it back on his head, "Thanks. Now, I'd appreciate it if you'd leave."

The interloper ignored this order, and instead looked around the shed. "...Nice place you got here."

Knuckles couldn't find it in himself to be offended by the sarcasm. "Do I really need to repeat myself?"

The hedgehog crossed his arms, looking the echidna over analytically. "Sorry to annoy you, but I never got ask you my question."

Knuckles' patience was running thin. Why did people interact with him when he obviously wasn't interested? Conversations were such a burden. "If you leave afterwards, fine."

"What's that?" The hedgehog pointed to Knuckles' coat pocket.

The echidna immediately stiffened.

—S-T-H—

"Bring #143 and #178 to the arena."

Robotnik leant back in his chair, a smile growing on his face as he watched the monitors in front of him.

The camera showcased two steel doors slowly opening, revealing two mobians. Each were in shackles with blindfolds forbidding their vision. One was a malnourished weasel while the other was a buff marten.

Humanoid robots appeared on screen and were shown grabbing hold of the cuffed prisoners. They began leading the two down the dimly lit hallway, towards the previously mentioned "arena".

The crowd of humans who sat on the risers in the designated room watched the live feed hungrily; They paid good money to see this.

" **Attention guests** ," A voice spoke through the speakers scattered around the walls of the wide room " **the awaited event is beginning now. Please put your phones on silent mode and remain seated, thank you**."

The two mobians were freed from their restraints and thrown into the centre stage of the enormous room.

" **Now it's time for the brawl you've all been waiting for**!"

The unfortunate duo eyed each-other warily. The skinny weasel took a small step backwards, averting his pupils from his adversary's gaze.

" **The newbie is already wimping out! It seems this'll be an easy win for the Mugger**!"

The one called Mugger narrowed his eyes, rolling his shoulders. He lunged at his adversary, tackling him on to the cold, stone floor. Rapid punches met with the weasel's face, kicks assaulted him in the groin. The marten raised his fist, preparing himself to deliver the final blow...

"No, please, don't! I have a family!" He screeched in agony, writhing and struggling against his opposer.

A scoff. "So do I. Exactly why I won't let you win."

And in one swift movement, the weasel's skull was smashed in.

" **And there you have it, folks**! **The Mugger wins his 25th battle**! **Please come back tommorow to witness what will be the best Mobian Brawl yet**!"

The crowd began piling out through the back doors, conversations kindling as they walked over candy wrappers and trash piles.

The egg-shaped man called Robotnik had watched this play out in glee. Humans were quite easily entertained, in his opinion. His pockets were overflowing with cash!

"Dr. Robotnik?"

He turned to see the scrawny reporter who had been commentating on the latest match. "Yes?"

A nervous laugh that lacked any humour filled the room. "It seems...We are out of healthy contestants..."

The obese scientist lowered his brow. "Then send out the unhealthy ones."

"B-But sir...They are literally half dead. They are on the verge of dying. If we send them out to fight, it'll be unbelievably boring. We'll lose our audience!"

A frown spread across the fat one's face. "Then let's find new prisoners." He turned to his computer and typed in passcode. After various security checks, he had made it to his _Potential_ file. He scrolled through the profiles, his frown deepened each second.

Then, something caught his eye.

 _Profile-_

 _Name:Miles Prower_

 _Location:Station Square_

 _Species:Fox_

 _Physical Desc:Two-Tailed, blue eyes, yellowish orange fur. Belongs to canine species, which is occasionally aggressive._

 _Age:?_

 _Last sighted: 3rd Of November_

"...I think we've found our guy."

—S-T-H—


End file.
